


Teammates

by Coneycat



Category: NHL - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hockey player AU, Loki is a sniper and Thor is an enforcer, M/M, and by canon I mean the NHL, but not a goon, happy birthday Mikkeneko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:34:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4023514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coneycat/pseuds/Coneycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is a veteran NHL defenseman and enforcer. Loki is a high-scoring young forward Thor has taken under his wing. There are all kinds of ways to have team chemistry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teammates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mikkeneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkeneko/gifts).



> _Okay, I don't even know what happened here. I was trying to write a birthday story for Mikkeneko, who offered me a suggestion for a hockey AU in which Loki is the top goal scorer and Thor is the enforcer (but not a goon!) who protects him. I'm not a huge hockey fan, but as a Canadian I do know the songs of my people so I figured it was something that would be fun to write. Among other things there's a lot of amusing footage of old classic hockey fights from the Seventies on YouTube, so the research was good fun. (Incidentally, hockey!Loki isn't based on anyone, but hockey!Thor and the great Habs defenseman Larry Robinson have a lot in common...)_
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> _And then apparently I started thinking or something, and something else happened entirely. I'm not even sure what this is, except a mess, but I'm posting it hoping it really is the thought that counts. I hope you got lots of much better presents (or at least some good cake), Mikkeneko!_
> 
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> _Mild warning for an injury not being taken super seriously in-universe. I do know better in real life but sometimes I bow to the needs of the story._

In the break between the second and third periods Thor sat in front of his locker, head down and silent, breathing deep. The whole room was uncharacteristically quiet, the echo of Coulson's equally uncharacteristic tongue-lashing still ringing in their ears. 

Last year, when Fury was head coach, they'd gotten yelled at on a daily basis and after a while they'd just stopped listening. Coulson, who as a player had been a crafty little goal-scorer, almost never raised his voice, so when he did the players listened. Harangue guys all the time and they got sullen and tuned you out, but Coulson gave the impression he was more disappointed in you than angry, and that really stung.

It was two or three minutes since Coulson stalked out of the room, and so far nobody had moved, not even Stark who ordinarily didn't take anything seriously. Thor, concentrating on what he had to do in the final period, just stared at the floor. 

At least, he did until a pair of skates appeared in his line of vision, and somebody patted him on the head. 

"Cheer up, son of a preacher man, we'll get them in the third," Loki Friggjarson said, his tone light but brittle. Thor looked up and then wished he hadn't, because the bruise darkening under Loki's left eye was Thor's damn fault and he didn't need the reminder. 

His thoughts must have showed on his face, because Loki's thin lips twisted into a tight little smile. 

"I do have to go after the puck, you know. And you can't spend the whole game at my elbow."

"It's not _your_ elbows I'm worried about," Thor muttered. Loki laughed and walked away. Stark, two lockers down, let out a chortle of his own. 

"Yeah, it's not his _elbows_ you're worrying about," the forward needled, but his tone was good-natured. 

"Shut up, Starky," Thor replied, laughing as well in spite of himself. You couldn't take Stark seriously. Thor, in particular, couldn't take Stark seriously. Too small to fight and never among the league's leading scorers, Stark had built himself a career out of moving the puck, making plays that ended in somebody else-- usually, these days, Loki-- putting the puck in the net, and keeping the opposition off-balance with his constant, inventive, incredibly irritating chirping. Stark, the definitive pest, was the yappiest guy Thor had ever played with and though his own main concern was to protect Loki and his fifty-plus goals, about half the fights he'd been involved in over the past few seasons had been to keep someone from murdering Stark. 

His mouth being one of his best offensive weapons, the little forward kept himself in practice by needling his team mates, but there wasn't any malice in it. The team knew that, and Thor in particular chose not to take offense. At this stage in his career he probably didn't need to be quite so careful, but habit and reputation-- and, let's face it, _comfort--_ indicated he not rock the boat unless he needed to. 

Back in 2006, long before Thor laced up his first pair of skates, _Sports Illustrated_ had done a poll of about fourteen hundred active athletes in the four "major" pro leagues, asking whether players would be "supportive" of an openly gay team mate. In all cases, more than half the players polled answered "yes." 

The National Hockey League was far and away the leader in that poll, with fully eighty percent of players polled answering yes. 2006 was a long time ago now, and Thor was lucky enough not to be the guy who'd had to test the water, but in his personal experience the percentage was a lot higher than eighty percent. 

Which didn't necessarily mean those same players would be equally supportive of _somebody else's_ openly gay team mate, so as a matter of policy Thor chose not to react to Stark's teasing. In the first place it didn't really bother him, and besides there was no point in suggesting a tender spot someone might remember later, when they were no longer wearing the same jersey. 

Although, really, he'd probably made his point in his first two seasons in the league. Hockey players weren't any bigger assholes than anyone else, but the heat of play definitely brought out whatever asshole tendencies a guy happened to have, and there had been a couple of incidents in which, shall we say, words were said. The league had cracked down hard on the offenders, but Thor had cracked down harder. In his first season he'd been involved in a lot of fights and he hadn't lost many. Okay, he'd hadn't lost any, and the other players took notice. 

(If it hadn't already been used Thor might have found himself nicknamed The Hammer. As it was, Stark had made a spirited effort to hang "Mjolnir" on him but fortunately few people could pronounce it and nobody at all could spell it.) 

It was, perhaps unfortunately, only natural for his coaches to take note as well. Thor never been interested in becoming a goon, but he supposed he wasn't all that surprised, after six years in the league, to find he'd become his team's designated enforcer. 

It wasn't as limiting a role as it might have been, fortunately: Thor had skills beyond his ability to take or throw a punch, had already won the Norris Trophy twice and was always one of the top point earners on his team. But he, and everyone, knew he was also out there as much to protect their top scorers as to defend the goal. 

"Defending the goal" naturally also took the form of hammering guys from the other team when they tried to score. Which was of course how he'd first gotten acquainted with Loki, a former top scorer at the Junior Worlds who'd come up two years ago with the Jets and had frankly driven Thor to distraction-- to say nothing of poor Rhodey in goal. Nearly as tall as Thor, if only about half as big across, Loki had a great reach, tremendous speed, and the infuriating ability to almost always be not quite there anymore when you threw a check at him. It sometimes felt like he created an illusory double and sent that toward the net instead of himself, and you only realized you'd fallen for it _again_ when you turned around and saw the red light go on as he scored another goal. 

During Loki's rookie season Thor hated him more than he hated anyone else in the league, not only for his ability to elude defenders but also the way he made you feel stupid when you tried to stop him. 

The hatred was, of course, strictly hockey-specific: Thor didn't know Loki, who'd come up a few years behind him and through the juniors instead of university. And the qualities Thor hated in as an opponent were a whole lot more welcome in a team mate. The Jets were rebuilding, needed a couple of seasoned defensemen a lot worse than they needed a young sniper right then. 

The decision to trade away a high-scoring prairie boy wasn't especially popular in Winnipeg, but as far as Thor was concerned Christmas had come early. His-- their-- team badly needed more scoring. It was a lot easier to protect the little bastard than it was to try and catch him, so Thor's stress levels went way down. And, as it turned out, once you got to know him on a basis that didn't involve being expected to run him through the boards, Loki really wasn't such a little bastard after all. 

That bit took a little time to figure out, because when Loki arrived at training camp he was so quiet and so guarded you could be excused for thinking he'd been taken prisoner rather than traded. Stark immediately began a well-intentioned campaign of locker room heckling-- Thor knew it was well intentioned because he knew Starky, but from the kid's point of view it was probably hard to tell. Certainly the harder Stark tried to get a rise out of him, the quieter Loki got.

Which made Thor wonder how he'd survived in dressing rooms for this long, because ordinarily the only guys who were allowed to go off by themselves were the goalies. He supposed, Loki being as talented as he was, his previous teams had cut him some extra slack, but the feeling-out period couldn't have ever been fun. 

And, you know, as long as Thor was supposed to be looking after him on the ice--

And besides, Thor hadn't always been the biggest, toughest guy in the room, himself.

"Shut up, Starky," he'd said casually. "Go sharpen your fangs on somebody else. Locker over here's free," he'd added to Loki, who'd looked both embarrassed and relieved for just a second before his face iced over again and he silently moved over to the locker two down from Thor's. 

Stark looked like he was about to utter another witticism. Thor glanced at him. Starky shut up. 

Thor knew exactly what Starky was thinking, of course, because it hadn't escaped Thor, either: the new guy, now they got a good look at him, was really damned pretty. Like, _ridiculously_ good-looking, all angular cheekbones and long eyelashes. Thor was actually kind of grateful Loki's mouth was thin-lipped and tense, just to make things ever so slightly less unfair. 

Because, Stark's combination of mischief and matchmaking aside, Thor was definitely not about to hit on his new team mate. His own life on the team was perfectly pleasant, and he had no interest in stirring up the dressing room. 

Once he'd settled in a little, Thor was pleased-- and relieved-- to find out their new team mate actually did have a mouth on him, and quickly turned out to be more than able to hold his own with Stark. Which was particularly a good thing when Loki and Stark ended up on the same line, where the two of them and Bucky Barnes quickly gelled into the kind of scoring threat the team badly needed. 

Loki seemed comfortable with the rest of the team now. But he still stuck to Thor in a way that made the defenseman wonder a little. Most of the time it was perfectly ordinary friendliness, but Thor sometimes got the distinct impression the younger player wanted-- maybe a better word was _needed--_ something from him. Most of the time it was just an impression. 

Once in a while, when they were alone, Thor was pretty sure the kid was flirting with him.

He didn't react, both for the aforementioned non-dressing-room stirring reasons and also because even aside from that he figured dating a team mate would be an incredibly stupid idea. 

And besides, he wasn't entirely sure whether Loki _wanted_ him to react. It would have helped, Thor thought, if he was sure Loki knew _what_ he was hoping for. 

He, Thor, had an idea, of course. One that seemed to be confirmed one day early in the season, when they were leaving practice together-- Thor was driving Loki home-- and Thor's phone rang. 

"Dad? Hey, how are you?" It was a nothing little conversation, just the old man checking in the way he liked to every so often, making sure Thor was all right and knew he and Mum were, too. 

Loki's body language went stiff and awkward as he kept pace with Thor and pretended he wasn't listening, but Thor didn't miss the tense lift in his shoulders or the way he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Finally, with a final, "I love you too," Thor ended the call just as they reached his car. 

"Sorry about that," he said mildly, gesturing at his phone. "Dad." 

And left the opening there if Loki wanted to take it. 

It was almost surprising when he did. 

"You guys are close?" Loki asked, in what sounded like a carefully neutral tone. 

"Yeah. How about you and-- ?" Thor realized he had no idea whether Loki even had a family. 

Loki's stiff shoulders bobbed a little, noncommittally. "My folks are... religious," he said after a few seconds, as if that explained everything. 

Which, under certain particular circumstances, it kind of did. 

"Mine, too," was all Thor said. 

"I heard that. Your dad's a minister, right?" 

Thor was pretty sure he'd never actually mentioned that in front of Loki, which made this the first time Loki had let on that he'd done any kind of research on any of his new team mates when he was traded. Or after. 

"Yeah," Thor answered the question, and then clarified, "United." 

"Lucky you," Loki said quietly.

"Yeah," Thor agreed, because it was true: if you were going to be a minister's gay kid, you couldn't get a whole lot luckier than being a United Church of Canada minister's gay kid. Thor unlocked the car and opened his door. "Look, there's... there are things that are hard for everybody, and some of them haven't been quite as tough for me. I know I'm lucky." 

Loki looked away. "I didn't mean-- "

"I know. I just meant to say, there were times when I needed someone to talk to, and I had them. Which makes me luckier than a lot of people. So, you know, if you ever feel like you need to-- " 

For a couple of seconds, Thor thought Loki was going to pretend not to know what Thor meant. If he did that, Thor figured his own responsibility-- or whatever it was-- would be discharged and he wouldn't worry about it anymore. Which should have been what he wanted, since the last thing Thor needed was to find himself more or less responsible for a twenty-one-year-old who was trying to sort out stuff he should by all rights have figured out in his teens. 

It should have been what he wanted, but apparently it wasn't, judging by the little flutter of warmth he felt when Loki glanced at him sideways and nodded. 

"Okay," Thor said, like it was no big deal, and got in the car.

And in one sense, of course, it really wasn't a big deal, at least not to Thor. But, despite the fact they'd had almost exactly the opposite of a deep heartfelt conversation, Loki acted like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

"One other thing," Thor added, as he started the engine. "Starky doesn't mean to be an arsehole. Most of the time, anyway. And he's not malicious. But it's still okay to tell him to go fuck himself if you need to, okay?"

Loki's lips quirked in the beginning of a smile. "Okay." Pause. "He did ask me the other day whether I play for the same team you do."

"Did he, now?"

"Yeah. I reminded him that we _all_ play for the same team." The kid was looking amused, which counted as progress. 

"Yeah, that definitely sounds like Stark. You can still tell him to go fuck himself, though."

"I'll remember that," Loki promised.

So there he was: Thor Odinsson, mentor and big brother to sexually confused young hockey players. 

Well, mentor. He put a question mark next to _big brother_ the next time Loki offered him a lift home-- he got in the car to find an old Dusty Springfield tune playing on the stereo.

"Son Of a Preacher Man." Of course.

Thor played dumb, and Loki didn't push. Both of them had enough to occupy their minds for the season.

His immediate plans for the season had involved making the playoffs and scoring twelve goals (fifteen would be better but he knew that was stretching it.) He'd also hoped to collect fewer penalty minutes, but that now seemed unlikely. 

The Lady Byng trophy had never figured into his plans. Which was just as well, really, because when the season began in earnest Thor was reminded that Loki still provoked as much hatred in opposing players as he once had in Thor. Also, fucking Starky was apparently a really bad influence on the kid, because Thor didn't remember Loki being anything like this chirpy in his first season. It was a good thing the two forwards were quick, because otherwise someone might have gotten killed. 

As it was, Thor was starting to feel like the reincarnation of Dave "The Hammer" Schultz or something, what with every other team's enforcers out to clobber Loki, and Thor doing his best to discourage them. And he could be _pretty damned discouraging_ , but even so it was a good thing Loki was quick. 

Stark, too, but Stark had been annoying the league for years now. You had to figure even he thought he had it coming. 

What with all the penalty minutes Thor had fallen short of his scoring goal for the year, but the team did make the playoffs. Just.

And so here they were, down two games to none in the first round and trailing 3-1 going into the third. No wonder Coulson was pissed. 

"Don't panic," Steve, Thor's defensive linemate, warned as they stepped out on the ice for the final period. Good advice, if you could follow it.

Which nobody did, at least for the first few minutes of the third period: there was a lot of milling about in the neutral zone, a lot of dumping and chasing, both teams iced the puck at least once and every move by either team against the opposing net seemed to be offside. 

Obviously this state of affairs favoured the opposition, who just wanted the score to stand. As the seconds and then minutes ticked down, Thor imagined the yawning chasm of _down 3-0_ and the frustration nearly choked him. 

A forward in the enemy colours came down the wing and Thor took him into the boards. Both of them stayed upright in a clinch that looked as much like dancing as anything, as the rest of both teams arrived to try and dig the puck out from their feet, trapping Thor and his dance partner against the boards in a claustrophobic mob. There were more friendly jerseys than foely ones in Thor's line of vision, but he couldn't tell who owned the sticks poking at his feet so he did his best to keep the puck jammed against the boards with his skate while he struggled to get loose. 

Pushed off hard against the boards, kicking the puck ahead of himself as he did so, picked it up on his stick as he swooped around the his own net and came steaming out of the defensive zone at full speed. Turned his head slightly and picked up the defenders in his peripheral vision, out of position and skating like hell to get back, one lone defenseman in front of him and out of the corner of his eye a streak in a friendly jersey-- _Loki--_ flying up the wing, hesitating just long enough to let Thor cross the opposing blue line first and then making for the net in a burst of speed. As the two-on-one scenario developed the opposing defenseman made the more obvious choice and angled over to cover the bigger scoring threat. Thor glanced around, faked a pass and then broke hard to his left, defenseman throwing himself forward to block what he now realized would be a shot, Thor turning to his forehand as he arrived at the net _(with the puck and in ill humour)_ and flicked it delicately over the goalie's shoulder. 

Continued around the net and into the jubilant arms of Loki and then the rest of the team as the red light went on over the net. 

_3-2. We're not dead yet._

The defensive line changed and Bucky won the faceoff, passed to Stark and streaked for the net just onside. On the opposite wing Loki went around a defender, Stark flicked a pass to him as he headed for the net. Loki faked a pass back to Stark and the goalie bought it then recognized his mistake and threw himself back across the goal mouth just as Loki slid the puck neatly under him and across the line. 

_3-3._

Loki was just looking up as he came around the net and ran into a crushing wall composed of the opposing team's biggest goon, a rhino-sized veteran called Mike Thanos. Ordinarily too slow to catch the fleet and tricky Loki, he was experienced enough to take advantage of a lapse in concentration, and dirty enough to get his stick up in a viciously purposeful crosscheck. 

Loki went flying, the back of his head banging into the boards as he crumpled. His helmet came off at the impact and went spinning across the ice. Loki himself curled up, hands going up to his head and legs bending in a purposeful motion that, thank God, suggested his spine was probably all right. Starky and the opposing goalie bent over him and Loki hung onto his linemate and wobbled to his feet as the whistle blew for the penalty. 

Thor noticed those details on what you might call a subliminal level-- before the helmet had bounced into the corner Thor was surging over the boards, stick and gloves discarded in his charge. Thanos had naturally expected some kind of reaction, and Thor _(in ill humour)_ gave him a reaction to remember. 

It had never been Thor's ambition to win the Lady Byng trophy, but he'd never planned to end up on one of Don Cherry's highlight videos, either. If he _had,_ he'd definitely have included this particular fight on his audition tape. You might call it a Hobbesian bout: nasty, brutish, and short. Thor led with a classic move, grabbing a handful of Thanos's jersey. This served to anchor the two of them together and incidentally improve their chances of remaining upright. His left hand fully occupied, Thor used his right to whale on Thanos, mostly a sort of overhand hammer-blow on the other player's shoulders. He did take a moment to haul off Thanos's helmet, ignoring a series of body blows that would probably hurt later, when he had time to think about them, then concentrated on punching the other man in his big cement head. 

Something smaller was insinuating itself between them. Thor turned his head just enough to recognize and acknowledge the linesman, who was trying to lever them apart. You certainly didn't hit linesmen if you could help it but Thor was big enough to simply reach over him and continue to pound on Thanos. At some point he managed the classic "lights out" maneuver, which is to say he pulled Thanos's jersey up over his head, which rendered the other player blind and as nearly helpless as a rhinoceros in a bag was ever likely to be. Thanos continued to flail away gamely but he made contact with the linesman about as much as he did Thor, and completely failed to land any vital blows. 

By this time the referee and the other linesman had arrived to try and pry the two apart-- the rest of the players keeping a respectful distance because they weren't stupid-- and Thor's arm was getting a little tired, so he shoved himself away and let the linesman skate him off to one side and then to the penalty box. Thanos, who was bleeding some from a cut over his eye, went straight off the ice, apparently assuming he was about to be handed a game misconduct for boarding. It turned out he was right.

The opposing coach made a spirited case that Thor should also receive a game misconduct as the third man into a fight, but Coulson-- having warmed up by hauling his team over the coals earlier in the dressing room-- could be heard from right across the rink arguing that since Loki hadn't been _in_ a fight-- in fact, Loki was pretty much an _innocent bystander--_ the third-man-in rule did not apply and in fact Thor should be given a commendation for rescuing an innocent victim from a vicious and unprovoked assault. 

It was quite a performance, and wherever Loki was-- presumably in the trainer's room getting his head examined-- Thor certainly hoped he could hear it. Coulson blowing his stack was impressive at any time, but twice in one night? Glorious.

When the dust settled the teams were left in a four-on-four for the next five minutes. Thor made it back onto the ice just in time to help break up a three-on-two that ended with Rhodey falling on the puck and smothering it. Thor finished his shift and was on the bench gulping water when a second-line grinder called Barton hit Starky with a pass and Stark one-timed it past the opposing goalie. 

_4-3._

That was where the game ended, with new life in the series. Down 2-1 was a completely different story than down 3-0.

It being a home game, Thor took his time in the shower and didn't hurry about getting dressed or emerging from the dressing room. 

As he walked across the secure lot where the players parked, a familiar voice called, 

"About time."

"Loki," Thor called back. "How are you?"

"I'm all right," Loki said dismissively. "Knocked the wind out of me, is all. I could use a ride home, though. Doc Strange didn't think I should drive tonight." 

"You're sure they didn't think you should go-- " Thor began. Loki shook his head, scowling. The effect was ruined by a quick little flinch, and Thor gestured at the car. "Get in. You can stay at my place tonight. I have a guest room. Just don't tell Stark, all right?"

Loki grinned tiredly, looking maybe a little bit relieved. If the team doctor had any doubts that Loki was okay they wouldn't be standing here right now, but there were times when coming home to any empty apartment wasn't a lot of fun. 

Thor had known a few of those nights, himself. 

They were both quiet in the car-- no Dusty Springfield tonight, at least, and Loki followed Thor up the elevator and down the hall to his apartment. Thor got the clean sheets and a spare pillow from the linen closet in the hall, then found some spare pajamas while Loki was making the bed in the spare room. 

"Sorry, man, I don't have a guest toothbrush," he said, a little awkwardly. "Just knock on the wall if you need anything or you don't feel well, okay?"

"Okay," Loki mumbled back, also suddenly embarrassed, as he accepted the pajamas in the doorway. 

"You're sure you're okay?" Thor fussed, aware he was making a fool of himself and also that he sounded like both his parents. 

"I'm fine," Loki promised. "Really. You'll probably be sorer than me by tomorrow."

"Maybe," Thor agreed. "Well, if you're sure you're-- "

Loki took a step forward-- one of those smooth fast moves that fooled defensemen all over the league-- reached up to hold Thor by the shoulder, then leaned in and kissed him. Taken by surprise _(only not entirely)_ Thor froze for a heartbeat. 

And then he felt himself relax and respond, his lips softening as his mouth opened a little and one hand came up to rest on the back of Loki's head, pulling him gently closer, the handful of spare pajamas crushed ridiculously between them--

And Loki stepped back, looking equal parts pleased with himself and unnerved by what he'd just done, and also amused at something-- probably the look on Thor's face. 

"Thanks," Loki said quietly. 

"Any time," Thor replied stupidly. And then, a little less stupidly-- "We won't be team mates forever."

"I know," Loki agreed, then stepped back into the guest room and closed the door. 

"Goodnight," Thor said quietly to the door, and made his way down the hall to his own room.


End file.
